Different Kind of Family
by Azkaban Princess
Summary: Nicole "Nikki" Emerson has a problem. When her mother decides to move her and her brothers from Phoenix to Santa Carla, there's a little accident on the way. Nikki doesn't know who her family is, but is she really from this world? And when she meets the lost boys, will she listen to her "brothers" and stay away, or will she follow her heart and find a new family? D/D/OC/P/M
1. Prologue

The first thing I do when I open my eyes is vomit. My chest heaves as I try to regain breath in lungs. I cough once when I stop, which is all it takes to begin an excruciating fit of cringe worthy hacking. When I finally stop coughing and the pounding in my ears slow, my ears are assaulted by a loud banging.

"Nikki? Nikki! Mom wants to get back on the road!" Who's calling my name? I braced my hands on the tiled floor, pushing my body up and away from the rusted dingy toilet my head had just been in. Toilet? Where am I? My feet wobbled as I stood, any energy I had left swiftly leaving my body. I staggered out of stall, body lurching forward as I fell. At the last second, my hands managed to gain a death lock on the stone sink just before my face connected to the side. When I finally managed to climb my way up to a semi standing position, my eyes met my reflection in the grime coated mirror. Cringing as I pulled my damp hair plastered to my forehead away from my face, wiping my forearm across my face with the intention of wiping the sweat from my face.

However, when I pulled my arm away, it was stained in red. My eyes shot back up to the mirror, zeroing in on a wide starting on the top of my hairline trailing down to the end of my right eye. My vision blurred, unable to focus back on my reflection.

"Nikki!" The pounding started again, the bathroom door creaking under the weight. "I'm coming in! Don't kill me!" The door swung open, a sandy haired boy with weird clothing standing in the doorway. "Oh god. Nikki! Mom! Mom! Come quick! Nikki's hurt!" The strange boy rushed at me, arms flailing wildly, like somehow that would help my situation. My vision blurred again as I fell to the ground. "Nikki!"

"Who the hell are you?" The boy's eyes widened at my question, tears falling down his face. Before he had the chance to respond, two more people rushed into bathroom, calling my name as I drifted off into the darkness.


	2. Dead? I Don't Think So

Dead? I Don't Think So

I've been drawing since I was little. I could never do anything particularly well, so when I developed an interest in doodling on the sides of my half finished 'homework' my mother was ecstatic. Though I had an extremely active imagination, I could never _just_ do it. I had to have an object to look at, to leech from: a book cover, a movie poster, animated characters from my favorite childhood Disney movies (One Hundred and One Dalmatians being my main muse). I remember sitting in front of my television when I was ten, giddily drawing Pongo throughout the film, trying my hardest to capture every single detail. I was no Leonardo da Vinci at ten and I sure as hell wasn't now. But it was something that I enjoyed to do and continued to do with my mothers encouragement.

My mother bought me my first can of spray paint when I was twelve. She took me to the underside of a bridge residing just outside the city and told me to paint what I felt in my heart. It ended up looking like a crime scene from a low-budget horror movie, but the smile that graced her face made the embarrassment worth every second. It was at that same bridge nearly four years later that I painted that same face, smiling in the way that only she could. It had been a way for me to say goodbye, to leave the memories of her in my head pure. But no matter how many times I stared up at that painting, it still couldn't smother the memory of her bloody and torn body, lying still on the hospital bed. Alcohol had stung my nose as I had stood there, sobs racking my body.

After it happened, everyone tried to comfort me, and told me that everything was going to be okay. That everything would turn out alright in the end. Because I had just lost my mother, and the man everyone assumed I thought was my father. They had perished in an automobile accident during a storm, trying to pick me up from the police station where I was being detained. Everyone told me that it wasn't my fault. But it was. Brakes don't stop working on their own, not like that. Did I feel guilty? I didn't have the energy to feel guilty. But if I did regret anything, it was the timing. She wasn't supposed to have been in the car.

I left home after that. There was no one to miss me. I had no friends, being homeschooled most of your life tends to do that. No family. It had always just been me and my mom, before he had come along. I sold their belongings, packed a few bags, and hopped on a train to nowhere. Two years of living on the streets made me cold, uninterested in life. But I survived. I did what I had to do, whether people got hurt or not wasn't on me, it was on them. That's how I lived my life, so I wasn't really surprised when karma came back and bit me in the ass. I had been lying in an alleyway, gasping in pain through my clenched teeth. My hands had curled over my abdomen, attempting to stem the bleeding. My vision had blurred before my eyes rolled back into my head, leaving me in darkness. I had died that day. Bled out through the hole in my stomach put there with a switchblade. I had died because I called some piece of shite punk a "fag".

That's why I couldn't understand how I was here. Sitting in a car with my family on the way to my grandfather's house. Except my family was dead, I had made sure of that myself, and considering my mother had grown up in an orphanage I knew she didn't have parents that she ever knew of. No, this wasn't my family. This was some crazy women and her psycho sons who believed I was part of their twisted little family. And I told them as much. But when the woman, Lucy, started bringing out family pictures I lost it. It was me, all me. A two year old me waddling about the a living room. A six year old me riding a pink bicycle down a dirt road. One photo looked recent, maybe when I was fifteen or sixteen, standing between my two 'brothers'.

It was then that the doctor stated I had "amnesia". That this other life I had imagined was simply a dream world. My real name was Nicole Lilliana Emerson, they told me, not Nicoilin O'Donnell. My family originated from Italy, not Ireland. And finally, that I had spent my entire life living in Phoenix, Arizona and now we were moving to Santa Carla, California because our "father" had cheated on Lucy and she let him keep the house. Like, who does that?

So here I sit, in the back seat of this wretchedly cramped car wedged between my "elder brother" Michael and my "little brother" Sam's hundred pound Alaskan Malamute, Nanook. It didn't help that Lucy insisted on listening to the most godawful radio stations. Growing up in an Irish household, most of the music I listened to was Irish, naturally. So being forced to listen to the Rascals was _not_ my idea of a good time.

"Hey Nikki?" Sam turned around in his seat, trying his best to face the back of the car. "Did I exist in your dream?"

"Uh, no. Sorry lad."I said. Being around them was awkward to say the least.

"So you really have no clue who I am?" He asked again, sorrow flooding his features.

"You woulda thought the confused looks and blank stare woulda answered that for you, Sam"I answered, feeling uncomfortable that I was talking about my entire life like it was some kind of bad dream.

"Did Mike? Exist in your dream, I mean." Michael looked at me sympathetically.

"Sam!" The man in question reached forward, cuffing Sam on the ear.

"No, he didn't."

"What was the last thing that happened in your dream before you woke up?" Sam started back up.

"Hey!" Michael tried stopping Sam again.

"I died." I muttered, looking out the car window.

"That's enough of that, now." Lucy said.

"I just don't understand how she can believe she had a different life? I mean, she has an accent now! I can barely understand her when she talks." Sam screeched, I flinched.

"I barely have an Irish brogue left, you whanker. It's not like I'm speaking Gaelic or anythin."

"That's my point, mom! I have no idea what she just said to me." Sam's arms started flailing about the front of the car comically.

"Your sister has always had a wild imagination. She'll remember soon enough." I scoffed at her. A wild imagination? This is my life we're talking about!

"Hey mom, why are we pulling over? Are we there?" Michael asked from beside me.

"I have to get some gas for the car. You guys should stretch your legs while we're stopped." said Lucy.

"Nikki, you coming?" Sam popped his head outside my open window.

"Naw, I'm gonna stay in the car." I answered. After they left, I curled in on myself, trying to fall asleep. Sleep had been almost impossible since I had awoken in the hospital, and it was starting to show. Deep bags resided under my eyes, looking like I had smeared them with black eyeshadow. I had only gotten a few minutes of rest before there was a sharp knock on my door.

"Hey Nikki? I'm gonna ride my bike up to grandpa's. You wanna ride with me?" Michael asked, expectantly.

"Ah, no thanks. I think I'll just stay in 'ere" I replied tiredly.

"Oh, where's Sam gone now?" Lucy muttered, coming up to the side of the car, eyes darting in different directions.

"Saw him make for the jacks a couple a minutes ago." I offered.

"The what?" She asked, face scrunching up in confusion.

"The toilets. . ." I drawled.

"Oh, okay. Thanks honey." She replied, hesitantly.

* * *

The car was silent as we drove down the long dirt road before stopping in front of a two-story cabin, the yard littered with creepy thingamabobs. Sam quickly got out of the car, leaving the door ajar for Nanook to bound out. As Michael, Sam, and I followed Lucy to the porch, we spotted a body lying stiff on the ground. Lucy rushed over in concern, quickly kneeling on the ground besides the older man. As I got closer, I noticed the faint rise and fall of his chest, well at least he wasn't dead.

"Dad? Dad!" Lucy gently placed her hand on his chest, as if that would somehow wake him up.

"Looks like he's dead." Michael muttered.

"No, he's just a deep sleeper." Lucy stated, fondly. Michael caught my eye, raising an eyebrow before glancing over to our "grandfather". I simply shrugged in return.

"If he's dead, can we go back to Phoenix?" Sam begged.

"Aye, I second that!"

"Playin dead. . . and from what I heard, doing a damn good job of it, too." The old man finally spoke.

"Dad! Oh, Dad." Lucy laughed. How is this funny?

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph! What the bleedin hell is wrong with these people?" I said.

"You said it, sister." Sam muttered under his breath.

* * *

"This is a pretty cool place." Michael offered as Sam and I look around, distastefully. The house, if you could even call it that, was old and dusty. Strange figurines riddled the open shelves, some being creepy enough to be in a horror movie.

"For _The Texas Chainsaw Massacre_." Sam muttered.

"C'mon Sam. Give mom a break."

"What's wrong with this picture? There's no TV. Have you seen a TV? I haven't seen a TV, Mike!" Sam paused, spinning around to look at Michael. "You know what it means when there's no TV? No MTV!"

"Sammy," Michael started, pumping his weights up. "We're flat broke. You don't see Nikki complaining."

"Don't bring me inta this." I quickly walked out of the house and began bringing in the rest of the boxes from the car. Lucy and I were sorting through the remaining boxes in the living room when we heard yelling from up the stairs.

"Nikki! Mom! You gotta help me." Sam barrelled down the staircase, breathing heavily as he ran. Michael soon followed, launching himself over the end of the railing in an attempt to catch up to Sam.

"Soon." As Sam ran by me, he quickly grabbed my arm, dragging me along as he ran through the living room. "Hey, guys, no running in the house!"

Sam slid open the doors in the living room, but we quickly stopped when we saw the contents of the room. Dead animal corpses littered every available surface, some were professionally stuffed, however there were also animal skeletons laying about. Michael stopped behind us, wrapping his arms around mine and Sam's shoulders. I froze as our skin made contact, but if Michael noticed he didn't seem to care.

"Talk about _The Texas Chainsaw Massacre_." Michael grinned. Sam smiled, letting out a small laugh as he watched me gaze on in horror.

"That's ghastly!" Michael quickly adjusted his arm around my shoulders, moving his hand to cover my eyes and turn my head away from the scene.

"Rules!" The three of us quickly turned our heads, finding "grandpa" hunched over with an old, taped up U-Haul box resting in his hands. "We've got some rules around here." He led us to the kitchen, heading straight towards the fridge. The door popped open, revealing a collection of strange jars riddling the shelves and a sign placed above the second rack reading 'Old Fart'. "Second shelf is mine. That's where I keep my root beers and my double thick Oreo cookies."

Sam draped himself over the fridge door, listening intently as Michael grabbed my hand and dragged me over to the window to lean against the stone counter.

"Nobody touches the second shelf but me." Grandpa continued. As Sam and I turned to follow him, Michael once again wrapped his arm around my shoulders, preventing me from walking away. He quickly snapped his fingers in Sam's face, gaining his attention before crudely pointing out the window and pretending to smoke a joint. "Now, there's another rule around here, and I want you to pay close attention. Don't touch anything. Everything is exactly where I want it to be-"

"-Grandpa, is it true that Santa Carla is the murder capital of the world?" Michael drags me and Sam back over to him with newfound enthusiasm.

"Well, there are some bad elements around here." he said.

"Wait a second, let me get this straight. Are you telling me we moved to the murder capital of the world? Are you serious, Grandpa?" Sam looked horrified.

"Let me put it this way. If all the corpses buried around here were to stand up all at once, we'd have one hell of a population problem."

"Great, Dad." Lucy commented, walking past us with a remaining box.

"Now, on Wednesdays, when the mailman brings the TV Guide sometimes the address label is curled up just a little like that. Now, you'll be tempted to tear it off. Don't. You'll only wind up ripping the cover, and I don't like that. And stay out of here."

"Wait," Sam stopped him before he could slide the doors all the way shut. "You have a TV?"

"No," Grandpa said. "I just like to read the the TV Guide. Read the TV Guide, you don't need a TV." He slammed the doors in our faces, leaving Sam speechless.

"I'm not exactly sure he understands the function of a television set." I said, leaving the boys alone as I climbed the stairs to my new room. The room was set down a side hallway, backing up against my brothers while also being connected to their shared bathroom. It was a good sized room, and though not as large as Sam's, it still held enough space to keep me from feeling cramped. I quickly put away all the bathroom utensils that were apparently mine, claiming the top drawer of the corner shelf. I then set to work unpacking all the other boxes with my name scribbled across the sides.

By the time I was done, Michael and Sam had made plans for us to go the boardwalk tonight. I only know this because when they made the plans, they spent ten minutes yelling down the hallway to each other, despite the fact that their bedrooms are located right next to each other. So when Michael popped into my room, asking me how long it would take for me to get ready, I was already dressed.

I had managed to find a pair of black leather pants and a worn pair of dark combats, that with a distressed tank top and a dark wash Ramones jacket and I was pretty much set.


	3. Tripping, Stalking, and Pizza

Tripping, Stalking, and Pizza. Not Particularly In That Order

 **Reviews are always encouraged, it lets me know if my writing is awful or not. Things are starting to move a little faster, I know she is acting a little like *shudder* Bella, but I promise everything will make sense in the end. If you have something you want me to include or think I'm writing something wrong, let me know and I'll try to fix it.**

When it was time to go to the boardwalk, Sam clambered into the car with Lucy while I climbed onto the back of Michaels bike. The ride wasn't lengthy, but it definitely wasn't something I would want to have to walk. When we arrived, Michael parked at the edge of the boardwalk, causing us to have to walk back to the car. Lucy gave us money before sending us on our way, claiming she was going to job hunt and for us to 'stay together'. What are we, five?

"Where do you guys wanna go? I think there's a live band or something playing. Wanna check it out?" Me and Sam nodded in agreement as we followed the music.

It only took a few minutes to find the stage. As we watched the sweaty man perform, nodding along to the music, I noticed Michael looking behind us. I elbowed Sam in the ribs, glancing at Michaels turned form out of the corner of my eye. We turned our heads, following his line of vision until I stopped on a bushy haired girl dancing above us. Of course. Michael couldn't keep his eyes off her. She was pretty enough, even though she was caked in makeup, however she looked like the type of girl who spends her time leading different men around before ripping out their hearts and stomping on them. Sam scoffed, raising his hand and attempting to break Michaels stalkerish stare on the girl. Michael only pushed his hand away before refocusing on her.

"Sam, I'm gonna go look around. Not really interested in spending my entire night watching Michael stalk the poor lass." Sam just nodded as I weaved my way out of the crowd, following a group of people headed down to some of the shops.

While I had never been to California, the scenery reminded me too much of when I had been living on the streets. Teenagers were dumpster diving, trying to find anything that could pass as edible to fill their stomachs. And now, instead of being one of those kids, I'm charading as someone who actually has a family, a home. Maybe they were right, maybe my old life was just a dream. But maybe this life was the dream instead. I just don't know anymore. It feels like my entire existence is a lie, like someone has decided to play a game with me as the main player. It makes me want to scream.

"Nikki!" I whipped my head around, searching for the voice calling my name. Lucy was crouched down next to a crying wee lad, trying to comfort him. "Why aren't you with your brothers? I don't want you walking around by yourself in your condition."She continued.

"What condition? I apparently have amnesia, doesn't mean I'm a damn stook!" She shot me a disapproving look before grabbing the young boys hand and leading him into a nearby store, sending me a look to follow.

"Excuse me, I wonder if you could help us. This little boy is lost and we're wondering if his mother might be in here."She asks the man by the counter. I lean up against the doorway, crossing my arms. Lucy was really starting to piss me off.

"I don't really know."He answers politely.

"Terry! I was so worried!"A woman rushed in, relief flooding her features as she eyes her missing child.

"Maybe next time you should actually watch your damn kid." I muttered under my breath. I thought no one would hear me, so I was rather surprised when I heard a small laugh, quickly smothered by a cough. My eyes met a man, probably a little older than me, standing on the other side of the counter. He had long blonde hair and looked as though he belonged in Twisted Sister. When he noticed my eyes on him, his lips quickly twisted up into a playful smirk, eyes shining brightly in amusement. He was surrounded by three other men, all of them attractive as well. One was a lot shorter than twisted sister, topped with curly blonde locks and a mischievous smirk. The second was the only one with dark hair, complimenting his tanned skin shown off my the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt beneath his leather jacket. The last man had platinum colored hair and pale skin, icy blue eyes peeking out from under his lashes. He felt dangerous. They all did.

"Well done." The man at the counter reaches his hand out, offering a lolly to Lucy.

"No Thanks" she politely declined. "Well, on second thought. . ." I started walking towards Lucy, intending to tell her that I was going to go find Michael and Sam when a large white shepherd stepped in front of me, a snarl ripping from it's lips.

"Well fuck you too, dog." I spat, glaring at the mangy beast.

"Nicole!"Lucy scolded, astounded.

"Thorn! I am so sorry about that. He usually loves everyone." At this point, all four of the men were looking at me with matching amused expressions, walking over to stand behind me and Lucy.

"Nicole, apologize!"she screeched.

"I ain't apologizing when I was nearly kicked and booted by his devil dog. If you're so worried about it _Lucy,_ you can apologize your bloody self."

Pushing away from the counter, I squeezed between two of the men and headed for the door. I was nearly out of the shop when I felt my foot drag on the carpet, throwing me forward towards the unforgiving ground. I closed my eyes, waiting for the impact, when a strong hand wrapped around my bicep, pulling me back to my feet. Tingles shot up and down my body as I pulled away, my eyes locking with those icy blue orbs. They seemed to widen in shock before once again locking on mine. This time, however, they didn't have that same amused gleam. They were hard as he looked at me, letting a predatory smirk overcome his features. I quickly turned and walked out of the shop, unnerved.

I didn't know where I was going and at this point I didn't care. I let my feet carry me across the boardwalk, eyes never straying from the horizontal planks my feet were leading me across. I had been walking for at least fifteen minutes when the toe of my left combat got wedged on an uneven board, vaulting my body forward for the second time that night. This time, however, before I even had time to close my eyes a pair of warm arms wrapped themselves around my waist, lifting me off the ground completely before spinning me around and setting me back on my feet. Once again, I felt a wave of tingling course through my body.

"I know I'm good looking, but I've never actually had women falling at my feet before. This is the second time tonight, girl."I scoffed, looking up to find twisted sister smirking at me.

"Please, I've seen much better."I said.

"Ooh, she got you good, Paul."I turned, my eyes settling on the curly haired blonde who was with twisted sister, Paul, at the video store.

"Shut up, Marko." he snarled, playfully. So that's his name.

"And I wasn't 'falling at your feet'." I added. "There was a loose board, you whanker."

"Oh, I'm sure you could trip over your own shadow, sweetheart."

"Well of course I could, my shadow's a tricky little bastard. Likes to see me fall to its level." This made both Paul and Marko double over with laughter.

"Oh shit," Paul laughed, "that's adorable. We're so keeping you."

"What do you think, boys? Should we keep her?" Startled, I whipped around, bumping into a hard chest. I craned my neck, seeing the man who had previously saved me from my embarrassing stumble in the store.

"Uh. . ." I sputtered out.

"I'm David and this is Dwayne," he jerked his thumb towards the silent native accompanying him. "I see you've already become acquainted with Paul and Marko. What's your name, sweetheart?" He drawled.

"Nicoilin, but everyone calls me Nikki."I answered, automatically.

"I thought that woman called you Nicole." Paul asked. I cringed slightly, an action that did not go unnoticed by the four men. David raised his brow in question.

"I- it's complicated."I finally said.

"Then how about you uncomplicate it? We've got plenty of time. Unless, that is, you have somewhere you'd rather be?" I gulped, looking between the four men. Everything in my brain was screaming at me not to trust them, but for some reason, I really wanted to go with them.

"I guess I can spare some time." Paul and Marko whooped before grabbing my arms and dragging me down the boardwalk. David and Dwayne seamlessly fell into step behind us, rolling their eyes at their friends childish actions.

"Okay, enough." I quickly dug my heels into the ground, preventing them from continuing to try and pull my arms from their sockets. "Remove your hands from my person or I will rip your arms off and beat you to death with them." I growled.

Marko quickly let go of my arm, a horrified look overcoming his face before taking a significant step back. Paul, however, wrapped his arms around my body, hugging me to his chest.

"You would never hurt me. Would you, Nikki?" He asked, his face settling into one a puppy would give. I slipped out of his embrace before gripping his arm and twisting it behind his back. "Ow, fuck. Fuck!"

"She did warn you, man." Marko chuckled.

"You're mean." He pouted. "I don't like you anymore."

I quickly held up my hand, motioning for them to stay. I started looking around wildly until I saw what I wanted. A small store was located about twenty feet back down the boardwalk, advertising several different products inside. Before any of the boys could question me, I darted between David and Dwayne, sprinting inside the store. There was only one person working inside, a disinterested blonde teenage girl who was occupied painting her nails. Perfect. I weaved between the isle's reaching a shelf barely out of her peripheral vision, grabbing four random cartons of cigarettes, shoving them into my bag. I backtracked to a lone shelf, housing different bouquets of flowers. I quickly grabbed a lively bunch of roses, shoving the bouquet under my jacket before ducking out of the store, the teenager completely oblivious that she had just been robbed.

The boys had waited for me, choosing to lean against the exterior wall. Relief filled their anxious features as I slowly jogged up to them. Were they worried about me?

"You shouldn't run off like that." David ground out, grabbing my elbow and pulling me between him and Dwayne. "You never know what could happen to a little girl all alone on the boardwalk. Someone might steal you from us." A grin graced his features, but his eyes were hard and cold.

I rolled my eyes before turning to Paul, smiling brightly as I pulled out the bouquet and handed it to him. "For you, my good lad."

"Aww. You got me flowers?" I nodded, watching as he wiped a pretend tear from his cheek as he cradled the flowers to his chest.

"Did you pay for those?" Marko laughed. I looked away, choosing to focus on a neon flashing sign advertising pizza. "So you're a thief?"

"I'm not a thief!" I defended. "I'm just really good at acquiring things that aren't mine. Speaking of which..." I dug around in my bag, pulling out the stolen packs and tossing one to each of the guys.

"I think the proper response would be 'thank you'." I added as they stood there, speechless. The boys looked at me, confusion riddling their features as they looked between me and the stolen cigarettes. "Okay, then…"

I started crossing the boardwalk, dodging tourists as I headed towards the Pizza shop I had noticed earlier. Halfway there, two hands grabbed my arms, yanking me back then steadying me as I almost fell.

"I wasn't joking earlier when I said you shouldn't wander off by yourself." David growled in my ear. I paused, taken off guard by the intensity in his voice. He smirked suddenly, eyes flicking up to look behind me before resting them back on my face. The movement made sense when I felt a muscled chest press tightly against my back. Shocks coursed through my body, becoming an almost normal response for when one of them decided to touch me.

David stepped back, casually lighting a cigarette from his new pack. Paul and Marko suddenly appeared, stepping behind David as they all watched me intently. A leather clad arm banded around my waist, keeping me from running away. My breathing hitched as Dwayne's warm breath fanned across my neck. His nimble fingers tangled through my chocolate locks, yanking on the back of head, leaving my throat exposed. My eyes closed involuntarily as his lips ghosted down my neck, losing myself in a lust induced haze. The spell was broken as a sharp pain pierced my throat.

"Holy shite!" I cried, slapping my hand protectively over my throbbing skin. "Did you- did you just _bite_ me?" I spun around, taking in his smirking form. "You effin' whanker!"

"You get Irish when you're angry." Paul laughed. "Did you know that?"

"Jesus, how thick can you get?" I asked, incredulously. "Ain't none of you the full shilling!" With that, I pushed past Dwayne, storming into the Pizza shop like a hurricane. I slumped down in a middle booth in the back, facing away from the door, trying to control my anger. Maybe if I pretended they didn't exist, they wouldn't come looking for me. I knew as soon as that thought crossed my mind it was folly. I _knew_ they would come follow me, though I didn't know why and that terrified me. I met these men barely an hour ago and I already couldn't picture my life without them. On top of that, I still have my "amnesia" to worry about. I don't need four infuriatingly attractive men mucking up my shite show of a life even more. I hadn't even realized that salty tears had begun streaming down my face until a gloved hand brushed them from my cheek.

"What happened to you?" David asked, as he sat across from me. Paul joined him on his bench as Dwayne and Marko each claimed a side of me.

"I have amnesia. At least, that's what the doctors told me." I began. "My _family_ stopped at a rest area on the way here, I guess. Must've hit my head or something when I was in the jacks, my little brother found me all bloody and confused."

"Shit. So you can't remember anything from your life?" Paul looked horrified. "Dude, that sucks."

"I remember everything from my life." I whispered, sadly. Marko reached over, entwining our hands with a gentle squeeze.

"So what's the problem then?" David spoke up.

"It doesn't seem to match up with my actual life." I lifted my hands, trying to brush away the remaining tears that littered my face. A server came over, placing a large pizza in the center of the table. Who ordered this?

"Wait, what?" Paul scrunched his face in confusion while reaching to grab a slice.

"I was born with the name Nicoilin O'Donnell in Belfast, Ireland. Except when I woke up in the hospital they told my name was Nicole Emerson and I was born in Phoenix, Arizona. Told me that I've never been to Ireland in me life." I said hesitantly.

"Then how do you have an accent, then?" Marko questioned.

"Apparently, I adopted it from my 'dream world'."

"I have a question. Who's Jack?"

"Jacks, it means the loo." If possible, Paul's face became even more scrunched in confusion. "Gods, the toilet, man."

"Oh. I totally knew that." he muttered. I reached out hesitantly towards the pizza, unsure if it was okay for me to have some. I locked eyes with David, scooping up a medium sized slice at his encouraging nod. I leaned back into Dwayne's side, never having noticed him draping his arm around my shoulders during my story. He wrapped me tighter in his embrace as I nibbled on my pizza, nuzzling his cheek against my hair.

"You coming to the boardwalk tomorrow night, princess?"David asked.

"Probably. Why?" I asked, suspiciously

"You coming alone?" He ignored my question.

"No, I'll probably ride down with Michael. . ." I continued at their hardened looks. ". . . my brother."

"Don't walk alone on the boardwalk until we find you." He deadpanned. Was he bring funny?

"What do you expect me to do? Follow my brother around all night?" I joked.

"That's exactly what you're going to do." He continued. "It would be a shame to lose our new _friend_ to a monster who preys on pretty little things like you, wouldn't it, boys?" I scoffed as they all laughed, amusement lighting up their eyes. David raised his brow, daring me to refuse.

"Fine. Whatever helps you sleep at night." I conceded, looking up at the clock. "Shite, I have to be getting back."

"You got a ride?"Marko asked as he tugged me out of the booth by our still entangled fingers.

"Yeah." We walked down the boardwalk, Marko swinging our hands crazily as we went, the rest of the boys following closely behind us. We reached the bikes within a few minutes, Michael nowhere in sight. I cursed him under my breath before untangling my hand from Marko's and hopping up on the railing next to Michael's bike. I bid the boys a farewell, watching them walk over to their own bikes and mount them, keeping their eyes locked on my form.

Soon enough, Sam and Michael appeared, the latter trailing after the girl from the concert. Pathetic. She ran over to the boys, swinging her leg over David's bike, smiling mockingly at Michael. My smile dropped from my face.

"C'mon. She stiffed ya." Sam laughed.

"Yeah Mike, you shouldn't give a damn about her. She's a floozy. Now stop stalking the girl and lets go." I said, walking up behind the two of them, trying to keep tears from forming in my eyes. I started dragging him by the arm, just wanting to get home as I was completely knackered.

"I don't give a damn, Nikki!" Michael yelled at me, ripping his arm out of my grasp.

"Oh, please. You give so many damns they're visible from Space." I scoffed, the boys looking over in worry.

"Whatever." He scoffed, staring at the girl as David and his boys rode away.


End file.
